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“It’s clear,” Michael said as he came to the doorway. “I just wasn’t sure whether anything had got in seeing as he’d left the door unlocked.”

“And shut the door behind it?” Kelvin asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped through the threshold.

“A bear could,” Michael said, almost defensively. “Besides, this door swings inwards so it could easily have knocked it shut and trapped itself inside.”

“And couldn’t let itself out the same way it got in? By using the handle?”

“It probably would have pushed and not pulled,” Michael said, quite seriously.

Kelvin gave Michael a piercing look. Michael shifted his feet uncomfortably for a second before turning away to busy himself with picking through a half-eaten packet of crisps.

Steph thought about what he said as she shut the door behind them – she was careful to turn the lock and slide the bolt across. Would a bear know how to get in? It was possible; it could stumble across it by accident. Bears were becoming pests in many areas in North America due to the ever-encroaching urban expansion. It was common for them to raid bins. Besides, despite what people would like to think, most mammals have a reasonable level of intelligence. It was part of their evolutionary heritage. Steph often imagined how dangerous orcas would be if they had opposable thumbs and fingers to manipulate things. Then again, humans were showing already how dangerous an animal could be with the manipulative digits.

Thomas’s cabin was quite different to Roger’s. Whether it wasmassively different to Fergus’s was hard to say seeing as Steph’s eyes had been more drawn to that cabin’s red aesthetics rather than the overall arrangement of things. Thomas seemed much more minimalist. There was a small shelf with a few select books – most of them seemed to revolve around maths and card games – as well as a closed laptop on the coffee table and a half-drunk mug of coffee on a coaster. That was really all of note, apart from the crisps Michael had committed himself to. Everything else seemed to be original fittings. There was little really to say what type of person Thomas was… had been. Steph noted there were packets of Frosties and Coco Pops on his shelf, although she was not sure that a grown man who ate children’s cereal suggested anything – everyone knew that children’s cereal was tastier. It was only the need to eat healthily that put bland porridge and granola in her bowl.

“So what’s the plan?” Steph asked.

“We radio the others, like I said,” Kelvin replied, already heading towards the back of the cabin.

Steph stayed where she was, letting her eyes follow Kelvin. He reached a small side table at the back of the room between the doors leading to the bedroom and the bathroom respectively. The radio was on the side table. Even this looked like it had been tidily placed so as not to draw too much attention to itself. He began twisting the dials, a white noise beginning to fill the cabin.

A howl sounded somewhere in the distance. Steph looked outside as the first splashes of rain began to patter onto the window. She couldn’t see anything. Another howl answered the first. Again, it was a way off in the distance but had clearly come from a different direction.

“Bastards,” Michael huffed, rummaging through the cupboards. Steph suddenly realised how hungry she was and was grateful when Michael offered her a cereal bar. He then pulled out a few packets of dried noodles. “Not a chef, is how onemight have described Thomas.”

As Michael began to rummage for a pan to fill with water, Steph turned her eyes back to Kelvin. He was frowning.

“Any luck?” she asked.

For the first time since she had met him – even taking into account the deaths going on around him – he looked concerned. There was an insecurity in the way his eyes met hers before they briefly flicked away.

“No…”

“No?”

“Nobody seems to be picking up at the house.”

“Have you tried Davey?” Michael called from the kitchen around the corner.

“Of course, I tried Davey,” Kelvin replied, walking through to sit on one of the plain grey sofas.

For a moment Michael stopped. He didn’t turn around or say anything, but it was clear to Steph something had caught him. Then he continued pouring water into a pan.

Steph sat down next to Kelvin, contemplating. Outside, the rain intensified.

THIRTY-ONE

Michael served the noodles – a meal she had not had since university. Even so, Steph found the food comforting and was surprised at her appetite considering the turmoil unfolding around her.

She wondered how things had become so bad so quickly. Had she anticipated this happening? No. No, she had not. She had been pretty sure things weren’t right and that a potential disaster was looming, but never had she imagined this. After one tragic death, she would have imagined that procedures would be put in place to prevent further slippage. In theory, things had been put into action, except that none of the decisions really allowed for chaos or even considered the worst-case scenarios. Had Kelvin realised these things might not work? Maybe. Perhaps he had put them down as worthwhile risks. However, it would clash with his need for control, so possibly he was just naïve.

“So what do we do now?” Steph asked, getting up to put her bowl in the sink.

“Try the radio again I suppose,” Kelvin replied. “Although perhaps that’s pointless as someone would have tried to get in contact with us if they were able to.”

Somewhere in the distance clouds crashed together causing a clap of thunder to rumble over the land.

“I could go back to the house,” Michael suggested. “Try and collect a few weapons and check whether the house is clear. I could lock the perimeter fence to the house again and come and pick you up.”